How a solar eclipse threw a remote Utah town — and its Navajo workforce — into crisis
BLUFF, Utah — When Mayor Ann Leppanen learned that the moon would cross in front of the sun above her home on Saturday, she foresaw calamity: a tidal wave of tourists engulfing her tiny town as they pursued the annular eclipse, with its spectacular ring of fire.
The town's economy has long relied on a modest, steady flow of visitors drawn to its red-rock canyons, coursing San Juan River, and wind-swept solitude. But in January, this hamlet of 250 people began appearing on lists of the best places to view the rare celestial event — the town has almost no light pollution and it was in the precise center of the eclipse's path. Reservations for hotel rooms and campsites began to climb, and by early September every bed was booked for the weekend.
Leppanen predicted that day-trippers and people camping on public land just outside the city limits would give rise to a crowd far larger than the city had ever seen.
"If even 1,000 people show up, it will be a disaster," Leppanen said last month, shaking her head in the small room in the senior center
